Call Me | American Psycho Reader Insert

Chapter 25

Selena laid there, her body trembling with the aftershocks of his brutal lovemaking. She felt dirty, used, and yet she couldn't deny the dark thrill that pulsed through her veins. She had agreed to this, had even enjoyed it, in some twisted way. She was the one who had allowed herself to be led into this lion's den, and now she lay in the lion's embrace, unsure if she was prey or plaything.

Y/N, ever the consummate host, leaned over her, his smile still in place. "Rest, Selena," he murmured, his hand stroking her hair with a gentle touch that seemed almost loving. "Just give me a moment. Don't go anywhere."

With that, he rose from the bed, his muscular form casting a shadow over her trembling body. He slipped from the room, leaving Selena to her thoughts, the candles flickering in the silence. The penthouse was a prison of luxury, the walls whispering of secrets she didn't want to know.

A few minutes later, the bedroom door swung open with a soft creak, and Y/N re-entered, the sound of rain pattering against the windows following him in. But it wasn't the rain that drew Selena's gaze. It was the sight of him, dressed in a raincoat, the material glinting in the candlelight. In his hand, he casually gripped an axe, the blade gleaming like a jewel amidst the shadows.

Selena's eyes widened in horror, her heart thundering in her chest. "What...what are you doing?" she managed to choke out, her voice a trembling whisper.

Y/N's smile was a twisted parody of affection as he approached the bed, the axe glinting in the flickering candlelight. "Oh, Selena," he murmured, his voice a purr of dark amusement. "You didn't think this was just about sex, did you?"

Selena's eyes widened in horror as she stared at the weapon in his hand. "What are you doing?" she whispered, her voice trembling.

Y/N's smile grew wider, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "Why, Selena, I thought you enjoyed a little...variety," he said, his tone playful and yet eerily calm. "Don't worry, I promise it'll be an experience you'll never forget."

Selena's heart was a jackhammer in her chest, her breath coming in short, panicked gasps. She had played along with his twisted game, but this was too much. This wasn't the thrilling encounter she had signed up for; it was a nightmare made flesh.

"Please," she whimpered, her voice barely audible over the pounding of her heart. "Please don't."

But Y/N was beyond listening. His eyes were glazed with a fervor that seemed almost religious, his grip on the axe handle tight and unyielding. With a swing that was surprisingly swift for someone of his stature, he brought the weapon down, slicing through the air with a whoosh that sent a chill down Selena's spine.

The first blow missed her by mere inches, the wind from the blade fanning her hair across her face. She screamed, her body jerking with the effort to escape, but his hand was a vice around her ankle, holding her in place. The axe arced through the air again, this time connecting with the bedpost, the wood splintering with a sound that was sickeningly satisfying.

Selena's eyes were wide with terror, her body shaking uncontrollably as she stared up at him. "Please," she sobbed, her voice breaking. "Please, Y/N, don't do this."

But Y/N was lost to reason, his eyes glazed over with a madness that seemed to have been festering within him all along. He brought the axe down again, the blade slicing through the air with a sound that was both terrifying and exhilarating. Selena screamed, the sound a piercing crescendo that echoed through the penthouse.

The axe connected with her flesh, the impact jarring as it cleaved through bone and muscle. The sound of her screams melded with the wet, meaty thwack of the axe's blows, a cacophony that filled the room with a symphony of horror. Each strike was calculated, each movement precise, a macabre dance that painted the walls with crimson arcs of blood.

Selena's eyes were wide with shock and pain, her body jerking and convulsing as he dismembered her with a methodical, almost surgical precision. Her cries grew weaker, her voice a raw, guttural wail that seemed to echo through the apartment like a haunting melody.

Y/N's strokes grew more frenzied, his breath coming in heavy, labored pants. His eyes were wild, his face a mask of exultation as he reveled in the power and control that the axe gave him. Each piece that fell to the floor was a trophy, a symbol of his dominance over her.

Selena's body jerked with the impact of each blow, her eyes glazed with pain and terror. Her screams grew weaker, her voice reduced to a gurgling rasp as her life bled out onto the pristine white sheets. The once-beautiful woman was now a mutilated mess, her limbs scattered around the room like discarded toys.

Y/N's rhythm was erratic, fueled by a frenzied excitement that grew with each strike. The room was a tableau of gore and opulence, the candles casting a warm glow over the crimson mess. The scent of blood mingled with the faint tang of metal and the sickly-sweet aroma of fear, creating a heady cocktail that only served to drive him on.

Finally, Selena's body laid still, her eyes vacant and glassy. The room was silent, save for the distant wail of a siren that seemed to mourn her loss. He stepped back, panting heavily, his chest heaving with exertion. His gaze fell to the raw, mangled flesh of her legs, the blood still pulsing weakly with the last vestiges of life.

A hunger grew within him, not just for power, but something more primal, more animalistic. He looked around the room, the candles casting a flickering glow over the carnage. The sight of her lifeless form was oddly invigorating, and a strange, twisted logic took hold of his mind. He was the apex predator in this world of shadows and silk sheets, and he would feast upon his kill.

With a snarl, Y/N bent over Selena's lifeless body, his teeth tearing into the soft flesh of her thigh. The taste of iron and salt flooded his mouth, the warm, sticky liquid coating his tongue. It was a taste that was both repulsive and exhilarating, a testament to his own depravity. He chewed, the sound of his teeth grinding against bone a morbid counterpoint to the silence of the room.